Set Her Free
by cap12
Summary: Severus has a hard time letting her go.


Hi. This is a little fic that I've had on my computer for a very long time. I hope you like it!:)

Grammar and punctation errors are, of course, mine. Sorry for them.

* * *

''Severus.'' She says with a clear voice.

I pretend that I do not hear her.

''Severus.'' She repeats, her voice laced with something that I am unwilling to identify.

I have to reply. I want to. I want to know what she wants. ''Yes?''

''I'm moving.'' She says.

I can hear movement over the words that seem to fill my head like an echo. She is closer now. I shut my eyes down for a second to stop the voice in my head. The voice that for a long time now has been telling me to take action. Not to let her slip away. _Tell her, Snape._ It's not that simple. _It will not be easier when she's out of your life and doesn't .._ Shut up.

I ignore it, as always.

''And?'' I say, a bit of my old sternness shoving itself forward. I can feel the flinch before it leaves her body. My heart aches. Is that possible? Causing her pain, it seems, is what I am good at.

''Severus, you..''She stops.

I wait for her to continue. Let her have her say so that she can just walk away before I do something stupid, like making her stay. If I turn, I will undoubtedly see her standing only a few steps from me looking so fragile, so young, so innocent. No, not innocent. Not anymore. Not since the war. Fragile? No, she is a strong woman. A beautiful woman, not that I would ever admit it out loud in her presence. Other men think her beautiful, too. The amount of men I have scowled at when they were looking at her on our nights out… Scowling at them had proved to be useful.

But not that either. The war. The Second Wizarding War that made killers out of us all. Hardened her as well as her annoying little friends before their time.

I will not turn around. I will not see her quivering lips, her pale warm lips, or her honey brown eyes filled with unshed tears.

No. The truth is that facing her will be my undoing. This has to end. I take a deep breath and _turn_ around to finally face her. And oh, she is standing just right _there._ I try not to look at her eyes, afraid of what mine will reveal and what hers will show. I take her in. She is paler than usual and her dark green jumper not doing her paleness nor her freckled face a favor. Her hair, her bushy mess. Hair that I have thought about running my hands through but not daring. It wouldn't do. Not now, not ever.

I must have been staring at her for too long as she is suddenly in front of me, overwhelming me with her scent, touching my shoulder with her ink smeared hand.

''Are you alright?'' Great, now I have made her concerned, frowned her face.

''I..'' Coherent words have left me.

She sighs, she always does that when she is trying to understand something or make others understand. So I sigh, too. Perhaps our sighs have something in common.

Suddenly she tilts her head, making me look up, and looks directly at me with wide eyes, a frown and mouth set firm. She's trying to look stern but her expression is simply funny and _cute_ that I have to hold back a bark of laughter.

I have to end this now.

''Is there anything you want from me?'' I ask her. _My soul, my heart?_

''No. I just wanted you to know... I mean, it wouldn't do to just pack my stuff and go away without telling you, you would get angry with me and – '' My finger is on her lips. She is rambling, unnecessary and nervously.

Bad movement, I should not have done that. She is still and not breathing properly.

''Hermione, breath.'' I say as I move my finger from her lips, already missing the softness. As I am about to move my arm back to my sides, a warm hand takes hold of mine. Our hands gets joined awkwardly in midair. Her quiet air intake the only thing keeping track of time. We stare at each other.

She lets go of my hand, her own falling back at her sides. The silence is, for the first time in a very long time, uncomfortable.

My heart is pounding. Trying to break free from my chest. I can feel it as surely as I can feel everything when she is near. My control is slipping, every fiber of my body is vibrating with suppressed emotions and words. I lift my eyes to hers, trying to convert my desire for her to say something, anything to break the silence, because I can't get myself to say anything.

''Right.'' She finally says, though it is a whisper the words seem to echo a billion times. She turns away from me and walks to her rooms, leaving me standing in our shared sitting room. I decide that I cannot keep standing here forever. She will come out at some point fully clothed, packed to go, and ready to disappear from my life.

I move to the desk at the corner of ours- no, _my_ sitting room and take the book I was reading a few minutes earlier. The silence is deadly making my thoughts louder in my head. She has used a silencing charm. I wondered why but then berated myself for thinking about her again instead of reading the book. It's an interesting book. After some time of silence, it absorbs me in its factuality and brain stimulating world.

I will set her free, and if someday we meet over coffee, then perhaps...


End file.
